


Reconsidered Life Choices

by Diary



Category: Scandal (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Pre-Canon, Awkward Conversations, Bechdel Test Fail, Canon Gay Character, Family, Friends Become Romantic Partners, Late Night Conversations, M/M, POV James Novak, POV Male Character, POV Queer Character, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-25
Updated: 2016-05-25
Packaged: 2018-06-10 18:09:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,888
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6968356
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Diary/pseuds/Diary
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU. Daniel Douglas and James become friends during the Grant campaign and eventually more. Complete.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Reconsidered Life Choices

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own Scandal.

There are times James wonders what exactly he’s doing with his life.

He likes a married Republican who just threw him off the Grant campaign bus for doing his job.

He used to write about important social issues, and now, partly because he inexplicably likes a married Republican, he’s been covering a Republican candidate.

“Hey.”

Looking up, he sees Daniel Douglas Langston standing nearby.

“Mr Langston,” he greets.

“Call me Daniel Douglas,” is the warm reply. “Miss the bus, huh? Well, if you promise to keep everything off-record, we’re going to be stopping at the same gas station as the Grant campaign in a few days. I’m sure we could make a spot for you.”

“Thank you, that’s very kind of you, but I didn’t miss the bus so much as I lost my spot. I’ve called a cab. Going back home. My boss can get someone else to cover the Grant campaign.”

 Daniel Douglas sits down. “Sorry to hear that.”

To James’s surprise, he sounds sincere rather than just polite.

“If you don’t mind me asking, why’d you lose your seat?”

“Cyrus- Mr Beene didn’t like an article I wrote. I called him for a comment, and he never returned it. Everything checked out, so, I ran it anyways.”

“Well, obviously, I’m biased, but it sounds like you’re in the right and he’s just being unnecessarily petty.”

Trying not to smile, James says, “Thanks.”

“It’s true. Can- can I ask you something? Something personal?”

“Sure,” James answers. “It’s a bit of a liability, but I’m an open book most of the time.”

“It’s no secret you’re a- homosexual. Are you- Do you like Cyrus Beene?”

James considers getting up and walking away, but the awkward, sincere expression of curiosity on Daniel Douglas’s face stops him. Letting out a breath, he says, “I’m not a predatory gay or whatever you and your Christian folks like to label people on the QUILTBAG spectrum. I’d never go after a married man. And I’d never go after a straight one, either. So, if you mean, do I respect and admire Cyrus Beene despite our ideological differences and like him as a person, then, yes. If you mean, am I attracted to him, then, I’m not answering.”

“Fair enough,” is the quiet reply. “QUILTBAG?”

“Queer/Questioning, Undecided, Intersex, Lesbian, Trans, Bisexual, Asexual, or Gay,” James explains. “It’s a more inclusive term than LGBT.”

Daniel Douglas nods. “Tell you what, we’re not going to leave for a few hours. Why don’t you cancel that cab, let me buy you something to eat, and we can- just talk. You and I, we’re two very different people, but- I’m not the intolerable bigot your fellow liberal journalists like to paint me as.”

James rolls his eyes, but realising he is hungry, he counters, “Tell you what, I’ll get something to eat with you, but I’ll pay for my own, and I reserve the right to leave at any time.”

Giving him a warm smile, Daniel Douglas says, “Sounds good."

…

“Do you believe in God? You said, ‘you and your Christian folks’.”

“Yes, but probably not the same one you do,” James answers. “In certain ways, yes, I’ll admit I’m a sinner. Being gay doesn’t fall under that. Premarital sex- I’m iffy on, but forgive my bluntness, I have to believe God cares more about the actual evil humans do to one another than about people having consensual sex without being married or even just committed to one another.”

Daniel Douglas nods. “I’m not- Much as I love Sally and want to see her succeed, I don’t share all her beliefs.”

“All her beliefs might end up dictating national policy,” James retorts. “I’m a very lucky person. My dad hates the fact I’m gay, but I have never doubted how much he loves me. My mom- no one dared bully me at school, because, they knew she could and would make them regret it. I got a car at sixteen, and what my scholarships didn’t cover, they did. People like my writing.”

“There are so many other people, so many kids, who will never be that lucky. And the gay ones, the trans individuals, and the ones who are just plain outcasts, regardless of their sexuality, the last thing they need is someone in the White House telling the world, telling them, that who they are is intrinsically wrong and that they deserve punishment for it.”

Realising he just crossed a line, he says, “And I’ll go, now.”

“Don’t. Please.”

Shocked, he looks over.

Giving him a small, somewhat sad smile, Daniel Douglas says, “I might not agree with everything you have to say, but I respect your candour. That’s part of what makes me and Sally work so well. She usually says exactly what she means and means what she says.”

Aware he’s pushing it, James asks, “And you don’t?”

“I’m a bit more diplomatic, I’ll admit,” Daniel Douglas answers. “It works for us and for me. Although, I’d appreciate you not telling her I said so. She thinks her own diplomacy skills are a sight more developed than they actually are.”

Unable to help it, James laughs. “Got it,” he promises.

It isn’t fair a straight, married man should have such a nice smile, he reflects.

“I suppose marriage is another thing we can never agree on,” Daniel Douglas says.

James nods. “I’m still praying for the day gay marriage is legal in all 50 states.”

“You want to get married someday?”

“Of course,” James answers. “A lot of people dream of falling in love and getting married. When I find Mister Right, we’re going to adopt a fat, smushy baby.”

Pulling out his wallet, Daniel Douglas starts taking pictures out, and James is immediately captivated by how adorable Cassidy Langston was as a baby and little girl.

“Ten pounds, two ounces,” Daniel Douglas tells him. “How she did it- Sally just pushed her right out with three pushes, no anaesthesia or nothing. She was eight before she ever got really sick. Got too many boys chasing after her, but me and Sally are going to make sure none of them ever ruin her future.”

Looking at a current picture, James says, “I can imagine. She’s very pretty.”

“Smart as her mama, too,” Daniel Douglas proudly declares. “And she absolutely loves water polo.”

“Sorry, but if you try to talk to me about that, I’m just going to zone out. Stereotypical gay, I know, but sports have never done anything for me.”

“I guess that means my bragging about my college football days isn’t going to improve my standing in your eyes.”

Shrugging, James tells him, “You’re a decent man. I definitely don’t agree with a bunch of the things you say, but I recognise that.”

Another smile appears, and James is aware he absolutely needs to reconsider his life choices. Being gay isn’t a choice, but surely, not stupidly finding himself liking married Republicans can be.

Finishing his food, he says, “Well, it’s been nice talking to you. Truly. But I need to go, now. Thanks for this.”

Daniel Douglas grabs the ticket. “You can leave the tip, but I’m paying.”

“No- that isn’t what we agreed,” he protests.

…

After the Grant-Langston ticket is announced, he finds Daniel Douglas at the convention bar. “Think I could get a few comments?”

Looking over, Daniel Douglas smiles. “As a reporter, no. If you’d like to sit, have a drink, and it just be two men talking, I’d be more-than-happy.”

Make good life choices, he tells himself.

Cyrus is divorced, and shortly after this happened, James had come across him pacing outside a building and adorably echoing a speech Grant was giving inside. He’d been so tempted to go over, but- Cyrus is never going to come out of the closet.

Daniel Douglas actually is straight.

“I still maintain you shouldn’t have paid for my meal, but uh, I forgot my wallet at home, so, if you’d be willing to buy that drink-”

Giving him a huge grin, Daniel Douglas nods, pats the seat, and signals the bartender. “It’d be my pleasure.”

Sitting down, James orders. “Off the record. Your wife is going to be our nation’s first female VP. How do you feel about this?”

“Truly proud,” Daniel Douglas answers. “My Sally, she can do anything. Someday, she’s going to be the nation’s first female President, and she’ll do a damn better job than most of the men who’ve held that office have.”

“Agree to disagree. I know you get this question a lot, and I wouldn’t blame you if you were sick to death of it, but you being a stay-at-home husband, her being a political powerhouse-"

Daniel Douglas simply shrugs. “Cassidy’s so independent now, but when she was little, I was good with her. I’m good at dealing with staff. I’m good at giving Sally the emotional support she needs. Some people, they just aren’t that ambitious. Give them a warm bed and enough food, and they’re set. I’ve never seen why anyone should see any shame in that.”

“I really like that answer,” James informs him. “God, do I really like that answer. Uh, but playing- What about the whole men being head of the household?”

“Sally’s given this answer before, and I doubt it’ll sound as smart and neat coming from me, but that’s one thing neither of us have ever believed in. Marriage should be a partnership. You help each other and be there for each other through good and bad. It isn’t about who does what kind of work or doing certain things because you’re a man or a woman. Whoever is better suited for this chore or handling that particular parenting situation should be the one doing it.”

“And you don’t think that’s exactly how most gay people approach marriage?”

Daniel Douglas gives a heavy sigh. “Look, I’ve never claimed to be a particularly good Christian. Somethings, though, I know to be wrong. I like you, Novak. You’re a hell of a journalist. And believe it or not, I do wish you happiness. But I can’t say that what you are, what you choose, whatever is right. If you’ll excuse me-” He puts some money down and walks away.

Bewildered at the abrupt change in mood, James watches him go.

…

James finds him at a state dinner.

“I’m trying to avoid Cyrus,” he says. “If I promise not to bring up my gayness, could I sit here and talk to you?”

Giving him a puzzled look, Daniel Douglas answers, “Sure. I’d like that.”

Gratefully, James sinks into the chair.

“Why are you avoiding Cyrus?”

 _Because he made fun of my latest article_ , is probably not the best answer to give. It might cause uncomfortable questions.

He and Cyrus might have gotten close if things had been different, but they didn’t. Now, Cyrus is even more critical of James’s work than when they first met, and, at times, he’s downright scathing.

 _You’re just afraid to like me_ wars with _he’s only genuinely nice to people he likes, and he seems to only like people he finds useful, and I deserve better than that_.

Deciding to ignore the question and hoping Daniel Douglas lets him, he says, “I heard your daughter won some big debate competition. Congratulations.”

“Thank you. Yep. That’s another way Cassidy takes after her mama. She won’t give in. You know, when she was four, she decided she wasn’t going to have bedtime anymore? For all me and Sally fought, in the end, she won.”

“Really? What all happened?”

“Well, first we tried…”

…

Somehow, he and Daniel Douglas end up periodically emailing each other and sitting together at White House functions.

 _Straight, married Republican_ becomes his silent battle cry.

…

In the White House gardens, James complains about his argument with the newest editor on staff, “Technically, she’s right, in that the article is perfectly cohesive without it, but it would have helped flesh out the context.”

Sighing, he glances over. “Sorry. I should be focusing on the Billy Chambers scandal. I know this must be hard on your wife, and she does genuinely have my sympathy.”

“I’d rather you be focused on telling me how wrong this little gal editor is,” Daniel Douglas says. “I never quite trusted Billy, but- what’s done is done. Sally’s gonna get through this just fine.”

Smiling, James nods. “In fairness, Hannah’s great at her job. I’m not trying to diminish that. It’s just this one article. That paragraph made it pop. Now, it’s just a cohesively dull piece that no one’s going to read.”

“I read it,” Daniel Douglas says.

He looks over. “Really?”

“Yeah. I’m glad you told me all this. I wasn’t sure how to say- it was as informative as ever, but it wasn’t your usual style. No humour or- empathy, I suppose you could say.”

“Thank you. Thank you for sitting out here with me. For listening to me.”

“Of course,” Daniel Douglas says.

“If you ever want or need to talk about yourself beyond Sally and Cassidy, I promise, I’ll never abuse our friendship for a story. Unless you say ‘on the record’, consider everything strictly off by default.”

Reaching over, Daniel Douglas squeezes his arm. “Thank you.”

Curse the moonlight, whatever aftershave Daniel Douglas is wearing, whoever made it, and himself for somehow finding himself in this situation, is James’s thought on the moment. You don’t go out into the beautiful garden with a kind, strong, funny man if he happens to be a straight, married, Republican and you’re single, and James knows this.

He just didn’t want-

“Did you get my latest email?”

“The one where I laughed so hard I snorted soda out of my nose? Yeah, you’re paying that dry cleaning bill.”

“Gladly,” Daniel Douglas laughs. “Let me guess, you completely disagreed with it, though.”

“Naturally,” James agrees. “God, you conservative, Christian Republicans, it’s like you’re from a different planet.”

“I’d say we’re more realistic than you secular-based liberals. And you don’t get to cast that stone when you’ve admitted to voting Republican before.”

“I vote the person, not the party, and Governor Jackson’s bill to help low-income families was a damn good one. I admit, I’m disappointed O’Hara won.”

“She kept some of it.”

“She kept a mockery of it,” James stubbornly replies.

“So, you’d take his bill over her efforts to make abortion easier to access?”

“I’d like both, obviously, but- yes. I don’t like the idea of women potentially suffering severe medical trauma or, worse, death because some self-righteous, moralistic idiots, not that I’m calling you or your wife idiots but the moralistic definitely stays, decide they shouldn’t be entitled to a legitimate medical procedure, but Jackson’s bill would have helped already born children who desperately needed it. Who still need people to stop focusing on wars and other things and focus on them.”

Making a small sound of amusement, Daniel Douglas asks, “What about the ‘self-righteous’?”

“God help me, I like you. And I don’t know Vice-President Langston on a personal level. The picture you paint of her is pretty flattering. So, uh, the moralistic stays, and neither of you is an idiot. Okay?”

“Okay,” Daniel Douglas agrees with a small, painfully beautiful smile.

“Besides, I’m the talkative, camp journalist who can’t keep my mouth shut, so, who am I to judge?”

“Yeah, but you like me, so, that works out well.”

Tilting his head, James looks over. “Yeah,” he tries to joke, “my opinion of you is truly important.”

“I adore you.”

The change in the air is immediate, and James knows by the look on Daniel Douglas’s face-

“I have- Have a good night,” he manages to get out.

Quickly, he leaves.

…

“I’m surprised you wanted to meet,” Daniel Douglas says.

James doesn’t think it would be helpful to explain how much he’s been half-dreading their meeting.

Sitting down at the bar, he tries to guess who among the other patrons is Secret Service and quietly says, “Look, whatever secrets you have, they’re yours. I'd never out someone. When it comes to the other thing- If you were single, I’d have already made my move a long time ago. I’ve gotten involved with closeted men before, and even though that’s never worked out well for me, it’s still something I let myself do. But I don’t get involved with married men. One time, and in my defence, my sin was that I didn’t do enough research, if you will, not that I knowingly made the choice to cross that line. I can do causal, but if I think someone has a partner who wants monogamy, I walk away. Always.”

Daniel Douglas nods. “Thank you.”

He nods, too.

“Can I tell you about me and Sally?”

“Sure,” he agrees. “I’d like to know, but don’t feel compelled to tell me anything.”

“I don’t,” Daniel Douglas says. Taking a breath, he signals for a refill. When it comes, he takes a few sips. “She’s always known. In college, my folks started to suspect. They would have disowned me. I don’t like her sometimes, but I do honestly love her. Cassidy’s my world. She needed a husband, a handsome, supportive man on her arm. I was willing to be that. I do believe in most of her plans to someday lead this great nation.”

“I’ve- strayed a few times in the past. I’m not proud of myself. She’s disgusted by it. But sometimes, it just got to be too much. Everything. So, I strayed, plain and simple.”

“It must be hard,” James offers. “I can’t say I completely understand. You and I have different life experiences. But I promise, I’m not judging you. I have no idea how I would have ended up if I wasn’t born lucky.”

“Probably still just as kind,” Daniel Douglas says. “I don’t know what God thinks of you and me. I wish more than almost anything I could believe like you do. Whatever the truth is, though, I hope you get the life you want. A good husband. A beautiful baby. Love and happiness. I can’t imagine God would ever condemn someone like you.”

All James can think to do is offer, “I’m sorry."

Finishing his drink, Daniel Douglas shrugs. “What for? You’re a persuasive man when you want to be, but you didn’t even know what I was. You aren’t responsible for my feelings towards you. And you being a moral man who wouldn’t knowingly help someone commit adultery- that’s something to be proud of, not to apologise for. I need to get home. Take care, James.”

He squeezes James’s shoulder.

“You, too,” James replies.

…

Irritated at being woken so early and half-afraid he’s about to be mugged, James blearily trudges to the door.

Seeing Daniel Douglas through the peephole, he opens the door and tries to blink his muggy thoughts into order. “If this is some bizarre dream-”

“Can I come in?”

Automatically, he moves aside. “Where’s Secret Service?”

“I snuck out.”

Closing the door, James asks, “Why? What?”

The look Daniel Douglas gives him is either fond or exasperated. He’s not awake enough to tell which.

“I’m invading your kitchen,” he’s informed. “I’m gonna need you awake.”

“… I am awake.”

The next thing he knows, however, he’s sitting on his couch and slowly coming into mental coherency with every sip of hot coffee.

Yawning, he looks over. “What’s going on, Daniel Douglas?”

“I’d really like it if this could involve you and me, but if it can’t, fine. All I really need is help in coming out.”

Almost spilling the coffee, James demands, “What?”

A painful sound emits from Daniel Douglas.

Reaching over, James wraps his hand around Daniel Douglas’s. “What’s going on, Daniel Douglas?”

“A few years ago, Cassidy- I wanted to kill the boy responsible. I don’t know where Sally and I went wrong. But she was so young. Too young to have a baby. I held her hand through the procedure.”

“Oh,” James says. “I’m- to be honest, I’m not sure how to respond. I’m glad she’s okay now.”

“It’s the worst kept secret in Washington how much Sally and Fitz don’t get along. Earlier, he and Cyrus Beene threatened her with this knowledge, and I know Sally’s going to keep being difficult until they eventually release it. To hell with that. I hope Sally can recover from me doing this, but if she can’t- I’m going to make sure there’s never a conversation about my daughter on a national level. Having the stereotype of conservative Republican in the closet for a dad isn’t great, but no one’s going to blame her or question her morality for that. Let them attack me. I was a fully grown man who made his decisions. She was a little girl who got in over her head.”

“This definitely isn’t the time or place, but- Would it be okay if I kissed you?”

At Daniel Douglas's nod, James reaches over and thoroughly kisses him.

Daniel Douglas hungrily responds, and James finds himself praying this isn’t the only time this happens.

When they break apart, James moves over to his armchair. “Okay,” he says. “First, thank you for that. You’re- What you are doesn’t matter. Onto figuring out what to do about Sally and Cassidy and you possibly coming out. Now, are you absolutely sure that…”

…

Epilogue

After the divorce, it's decided Cassidy will spend the summer with Daniel Douglas, and after she's dropped off, her first words to James are, “If you and my dad adopt, I’m not changing any diapers. Also, if you hurt him, I have ways of turning Secret Service against you so badly that they will shoot.”

While James is gaping and wondering if this is ordinary teenage behaviour or a sign of a legitimate devil child (he knew he hadn't read enough parenting and child development books), Daniel Douglas reappears with her suitcases. “Hey, darling.” He kisses her forehead, and with a hopeful look over at James, he asks, “How are you and James getting on?”

“Great, Daddy,” Cassidy chirps. “We were just talking about how you might adopt. I’m not going to have to share my room, am I?”

“No, of course not,” Daniel Douglas answers. “But uh, this is all very new, sweetheart. James and I- we’re still trying to find our footing. Just because he's staying the weekend with us- we're not even living together, okay?”

“That’s fine,” Cassidy says. “As long as you’re happy.” She turns back to James. “Do you like pizza? I was promised pizza.”

“Sure,” James agrees. “What kind?”

Once it’s decided and Daniel Douglas goes to order it, James asks, “So, you and I? We’re okay?”

“Hurt my dad, and you will be shot,” she repeats. “Otherwise, sure. I love my mom, but I like my dad better. I might not want to, but I know, if I ever need to, I can talk to him about anything. I’m glad he’s finally focusing on actually being happy.”

James nods. “Thank you. I’ll try my best to make sure he is.”

“Cool. I’ll try my best to be mature and not make everything about me, but try to remember that I do have the legitimate excuse of my hormones occasionally going crazy inside me.”

Laughing, he agrees, “Got it.”


End file.
